


Excerpts from Cherished

by EyotaDeer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ABO, Alpha Gladiolus Amicitia, Alpha Ignis Scientia, Alpha Noctis Lucis Caelum, Eating Disorders, Excerpts based on Cherished AU, Excerpts in no particular order, Imprinting, Intersex, Lingerie, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Self Harm, Mpreg, Multi, Nesting, OT4, Older Ignis, Older Noctis, Omega Verse, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Polyamory, Rape Recovery, Trauma, Veiling, Young Prompto, older gladio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyotaDeer/pseuds/EyotaDeer
Summary: King Noctis and his two husbands, Gladio and Ignis have been searching for their missing omega mate for years to no avail. However, one cold and snowy night, Gladio and Ignis stumble across their abandoned and abused omega in a dumpster, discarded like garbage.They take him home to the Citadel to nurse him back to health, and thus, Prompto's new life as a cherished omega consort begins.--This is a collection of excerpts and oneshots based in the Cherished AU. They are in no particular order. These are scenes and moments from the AU that I'd like to share, however they would make the length of the story too long. Each excerpt will have a time-frame mentioned in the summary so that readers know when each vignette takes place in the story line.





	1. Excerpt 1 - Based in Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cherished](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12696924) by [EyotaDeer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyotaDeer/pseuds/EyotaDeer). 

> This excerpt takes place in Chapter 1. 
> 
> It is Prompto's POV of the night he is rescued by Gladio and Ignis.
> 
> Warning: mentions abuse, rape and suicidal ideation. Please be warned.

For years now, Prompto had resolutely accepted he was drifting towards _ ‘rock bottom’ _ . This expression was one of the many his master and family enjoyed using, yet it was the only one Prompto himself could relate to. Expressions like  _ ‘on top of the world’ _ and  _ ‘over the moon’  _ simply didn’t resonate with him the way  _ ‘rock bottom’  _ did. Because to put it bluntly, Prompto had never felt anything he could liken to sitting on top of Eos, or better yet, watching the earthly planet from the height of its protective moon. Never had the young omega encountered a feeling that made him feel invincible, and the only word he could think of that made him feel ‘good’ was the word  _ ‘safe.’ _ Not like Prompto had any experience with that word either. It was just the idea of being safe that made him feel good. And while Prompto had never truly known the word  _ ‘safe’  _ he knew that his current circumstances were the exact opposite it.

Right now, Prompto was in trouble; in danger. His life was at risk. He wasn’t safe. He was as far from safe as he was from his master’s home, which was hundreds of miles away. Even  _ if  _ Prompto could escape the confines of the cold, strange and filthy place he currently resided, the blond wouldn’t know how to find his way “home.” He didn’t know where his master lived. Didn’t know if he was even in the same country as the stifling manor he’d called home for the past six years. All he knew was that he was left in this dark place to die. This freezing, putrid, entirely black space was to serve as his coffin. This was apparently _ the end.  _

Now it wasn’t like Prompto was surprised by his fate. His master and his equally wretched wife had been threatening to put an end to their omegan slave for years now. His master made his threats half-heartedly, his lust always overpowering his frustration with the dull blond. But as for Arkis, his master’s sadistic choice of a second spouse, her words were always serious. Prompto knew he was destined to be killed the night Arkis first stumbled upon her husband indulging in his new purchase. It was only a matter of time before the woman exacted her rage upon her lover’s favorite toy. And today was the day. 

Prompto knew something was different just by the way he was harshly woken from his sleep. The blond was usually jerked from his rest verbally, a harsh order barked into his ear and scaring him into consciousness. On tougher days he was slapped awake, on even worse days he awoke to someone draped over his back, thrusting away at his already bruised and torn body. But on this particular morning, he woke to silence.

Still half asleep, the omega had taken a moment to stretch and relish in the quiet. He’d naively hoped that he was being blessed with a rare day of grace. Quiet mornings were usually a twice-a-year occurrence for Prompto; one of which was Solstice morning, and the other being the Lucian King’s yearly address. On these blessed days, Prompto was thankfully left alone. His master took his family to their winter cabin during the Solstice and the family devotedly attended the popular King’s addresses every summer. During these occasions, Prompto was left to his own devices. And although he spent most of his time locked away in his claustrophobic cage, these abuse-free days usually brought happy moments for Prompto because his master’s dog was allowed to roam free in the home. The excitable pup would often sniff out Prompto’s whereabouts, and thus the omega spent hours speaking to his furry friend and petting him through the barriers of his confinement. So with these two dates burned into his mental calendar, Prompto knew something was off this morning when silence greeted his waking senses. 

Oh, but then he opened his eyes; and never had Prompto felt a terror so strong. Instead of waking to see the tan walls of his master’s bedroom, the omega woke to find a pair of blazing green orbs staring him down. Anger, hatred and pure malice was directed towards Prompto’s chained and prone form. The owner of said eyes wasn’t a stranger. Prompto had been on the receiving end of that terrifying gaze more times than he could count. However, this time the eyes held more than fury and disdain; they held a gleeful giddiness. Excitement. One could call it bloodlust, and Prompto knew that today wouldn’t end like the night before. Arkis had finally decided to dispose of him, and Prompto could only pray he’d meet his end quickly and without much pain. 

But of course, such a hope was pathetically naive and wishful. Arkis had been tormenting the blond for years. He knew the extent of her depravity was limitless. The noblewoman wasn’t just angry with him, she was _ jealous  _ of the omega whom she deemed a whore and a homewrecker. Why she believed Prompto had a choice about his circumstances? He’d probably never know. But Arkis was dead set on pinning her husband's infidelity on the Niffra prize he’d dragged home one night from an illegal auction. Arkis had undoubtedly been planning Prompto’s demise the minute the cruel man presented her with his purchase, and Prompto shouldn’t have been startled that his death sentence was being carried out on this cold morning. However, knowing your death was imminent didn’t change the fact that it was damn  _ sad _ . And fucking scary. So fucking scary. 

The next twelve hours of the day were nightmarish. Prompto had suffered through beatings nearly every day of his enslavement, but the torture he endured this morning until nightfall was on another level. Arkis was vicious with the omega she easily overpowered. Small and frail from malnourishment, Prompto couldn’t defend himself even if he tried. All he could do was curl away from the blows and whimper pleas for mercy, desperately praying to the Astrals to fill the beta with remorse or at least push her to finish the job faster. But after a full hour of nearly non-stop blows from fists, heeled shoes, a hastily grabbed extension cord and even a cane, Prompto knew her plans were to torture him before eventually ending his life. And so, like he did during the hundreds of sexual assaults his body had taken over the years, the omega disassociated to ease his suffering. And it worked...until others got involved. 

Once Arkis invited her son and his friends to witness Prompto’s torture, the blond finally broke down into hysterical wailing. It had been years since Prompto had felt so humiliated, so raw. He’d been engaging in degrading sex since a young child. He no longer felt like his body deserved respect, that his intimate places were sacred and shouldn’t be touched by those who didn’t love and respect them. He’d long shed his embarrassment of being naked and exposed in front of lustful eyes. Long lost the indignation he first felt when he was ordered to strip for a strange man he could barely understand in a foreign, cold room. But unfortunately, Arkis knew exactly how to rip a hole in his heart. She knew Prompto longed for companionship She knew he watched from windows as Arkis’s son hung out with his buddies on the weekends. She knew Prompto would give anything to have friends his own age. And so she decided to throw an impromptu “party” to finally grant Prompto his wish. 

When Arkis dragged the beaten and dizzy omega into a room full of waiting teenagers, Prompto felt his heart shatter within his stick-thin chest. He didn’t want to believe Arkis could be so cruel and do something so hurtful. Prompto hadn’t done anything to this woman but be raped by her husband. He didn’t ask to be in her home or her life. He was just trying to survive day by day. For what? He still didn’t know. But despite not knowing why he deserved such cruelty, Prompto was forced to endure it anyway. 

The omega wasn’t sure how long the Arkis assaulted him in front of the teens. It was probably no more than an hour, but it felt like days upon days. The woman didn’t specifically rape him using the textbook definition; instead she used objects to torture and terrify him. At times she passed him around to be molested by his audience; he was cruelly pinched and prodded and laughed at like he was an object and not a human being. Some of the teens enjoyed ordering him to sit in degrading positions. Others wanted to see how much he could fit in his entrance, excitedly brainstorming new objects around the house Arkis could use on him. During the whole affair, Arkis abused him with an unreadable look on her face. The longer the horror went on, the angrier she seemed to grow. It was as if she was expecting to gain some sort of pleasure out of the assault but was let down and therefore furious that he wasn’t suffering as much as she desired. And thus, she eventually ended the nightmare just as swiftly as she’d started it. Out of the blue, the angry woman ordered her son’s friends to leave her home immediately. The boys made a hasty escape, fearful of her rage and unstable behavior. It was when they were gone that Arkis ordered her son to take Prompto to a bridge and drown him. 

And that’s when Prompto mentally checked out. 

He could vaguely remember being tied up and thrown into the trunk of Arkis’s luxury SUV. He was surrounded by a hard, course material which he now knew to be bricks. He could hear a muffled argument through the buzzing in his ears. While he couldn’t make out the words in the heated conversation, one voice was threatening and the other cowed and pleading. They eventually quieted and someone entered the car and it started moving. Prompto wasn’t cognizant of how much time actually passed, but the clock in the back of his hazy thoughts seemed to tick 3,652 times, so he estimated an hour. The clock was interrupted when he was jostled, pulled into someone's arms and dumped on a cold, concrete surface. The cowed, muffled voice from earlier started up again, this time sounding panicked and unsure. The sound of shuffling shoes soon joined the voice, the echo of a fist hitting metal shortly following. At some point, Prompto was hauled up and thrown back into the car. Then he was moving again, the bumps in the road jostling sprained bones and open wounds. His strange mental clock reached 7,608 seconds before he was once again hauled out of the car. 

The sensation of being held as his captor walked confused the injured and dazed omega. It felt good.  _ Warm _ . The hands holding him held no ounce of care or love, but the warmth was enough to make Prompto burrow against the solid chest of his captor. He wanted warmth. He needed some comfort as he met his end. Was this the God’s hearing his cry? Were they soothing him before he met his end? Would he go like this, wrapped in warmth as he was disposed of?

An explosion of pain erupting against his thigh quickly ended Prompto’s train of thought. When a glob of spit landed below his bruised left eye, he pulled away from his captor and grew still. But his recoiling didn’t satisfy the man. He hit him again, this time against his cheek. Another blow landed on his already swollen stomach, and Prompto heard a new voice muffled in the air. Broken and hoarse, he knew it was his own. 

No, the Astrals weren’t taking pity on him. He would die like this, freezing and bruised without an ounce of warmth to soothe him during the scary journey from Eos into the heavenly realm. He would give anything to have a hug before he passed. Would beg for his captor to hold his hand if he could find his words. But when he opened his mouth, his tongue wouldn’t work. He managed to slur a few pleas and was promptly hit in the mouth for his efforts. 

He gave up. 

The omega resigned himself to being his own comfort and curled his body into a ball, dazedly focusing on the sound of his captor’s boots crunching on newly fallen snow. Prompto focused on the pinpricks of ice hitting his bare skin, counting them like he’d counted the seconds of his lonesome journey to wherever he was now. He could feel his body rapidly losing its temperature. He could feel his fingers and toes beginning to numb. He wondered how long his captor would walk. How long he would freeze out in the elements. Would he die within a building? Would he die in another vehicle? Would he pass on the cold, snow covered ground like a wild animal? He received his answer when he was unexpectedly dropped. It was a careless action, and Prompto tumbled into an environment that both confused him and sent pain shooting through his body. 

It took a moment for the malnourished and beaten omega to focus on his surroundings. His eyes were blurry, his ears still ringing, his mouth parched from lack of water. All of these things made him feel faint and out of sorts. He only began to come around when he heard the clinking of chains and felt his captor attaching something to his permanent metal collar. The man was rough, jerking Prompto’s neck here and there as he tied the chains to something off in the distance. When Prompto reached a hand out to figure out what was happening, he was slapped so hard his head smashed into a metal wall which sent echoes ringing through the atmosphere. 

_ “Fuck you, I hate you. Making me do this shit. Rot bitch.”  _

These were the first words Prompto’s poor brain registered in hours, and he absorbed them like the thousands upon thousands of insults sent his way over the past twelve years. He was trash. He was worthless. He inhaled air that decent, worthy people should have access to. He was only good for his holes, and even those weren’t good enough for some alphas. He was a needy omega. He was the lowest of the low in society. He would never find love. In fact, he’d never even  _ experienced  _ love. He was disposable. 

These disparaging remarks weren’t new, and the words themselves weren’t exactly painful. What  _ was  _ painful was knowing these words would be the last ones Prompto would ever hear. As his vision stopped swimming, the omega despondently realized he would die amongst refuse. He would pass away alone, tied to the walls of a rancid dumpster as he slowly froze to death. And then he would rot here, nestled amongst trash and abandoned objects. And well, coming to terms with the realization that he was no more worthy of care than the objects surrounding him made his heart hurt. 

It  _ hurt _ to be so insignificant that he didn’t even deserve a proper burial. 

Being left to die in a dumpster reminded him that yes, this is what he was. Garbage. Human garbage. 

As the sound of his captor’s car driving away rang through the air, Prompto curled himself into the corner of the bin. He tried to tuck his tingling toes and fingers against his body to preserve warmth, but he was so underweight that it didn’t help much. After years of malnourishment, he simply wasn’t capable of keeping himself warm anymore. But he tried nonetheless, desperate to make his passing a little easier on his mind. 

After doing his best to preserve the heat in his extremities, the blond glanced around frightfully. He was sitting on top of several trash bags, sharp objects poking and cutting his skin through the plastic. Dozens of bottles, random pieces of furniture, and rotting food lay scattered amongst the bags. The smell was horrendous, almost suffocating. Prompto tried breathing through his mouth to find relief, but his mouth was so dry he couldn’t risk drying it out further. And lastly, there was the cold. 

It was so damn  _ cold  _ in the dumpster.

And not just physically cold. 

The dumpster felt like death itself. Dark and unforgiving. Isolating and unfeeling. This was no place to die. No human deserved to spend their last moments in such a desolate place. Prompto knew he was trash, but he was still a human being. He was still one of the Astral’s creations. At the very least, he felt he deserved to pass in peace. His life had been filled with sorrow and non-stop abuse. Surely the Astrals wouldn’t do this to someone who’d endured so much? Surely they would allow him to escape this dumpster in order to find a better place to lay his body down? 

What in Shiva’s blessed name did he do to deserve this? 

Did he anger his masters one too many times? Did he not take enough clients? Did he not bring in enough money? Did he not spread his legs wide enough, open his throat deep enough? Did he not clean his master’s home fast enough? Was he too disobedient? He could count his sins against his masters on two hands. He’d stolen scraps of food, hidden a soiled towel away in order to cuddle with it, played with his master’s dog, cried when he was tattooed, begged for a hug when his omegan needs overwhelmed his common sense. But did these sins warrant such a harsh punishment? If Prompto were an Astral, he would never punish a person for his misdeeds. He would take pity on this person. He would show them kindness, ease their starvation and loneliness. He would protect this person. He would _ love  _ this person. 

But Prompto was a dumb bitch, so his feelings about the actions of gods was irrelevant. 

So with no other option available to him, the omega accepted his fate. He accepted that he’d failed to prove his worth. He accepted that he failed to take control of his life by ending it long ago. When he had the option of leaving several years prior, he’d foolishly held on. He wanted to live. He was a fourteen-year-old child who naively wanted to find happiness and still believed such a thing was a possibility for him. But now he knew he made a poor decision so many years ago. He should’ve gone on his own terms, surrounding himself with warmth as he let go. But hindsight is twenty-twenty. And Prompto would suffer for his personal choices. 

Trying to make the best out of a hopeless situation, the omega allowed himself to disassociate for the second time that night. If he was going to die like this, at least he could lessen the pain by setting his mind free. And so he sat. And he sat. And he sat. As the hours passed, he lost feeling in his fingers and toes. His lips were numb, his breathing growing shallow. His eyes rested, unwilling to examine his dismal surroundings as his body shut down. With his mind hovering somewhere above his body, the omega floated in and out of sleep. All he could do was wait. All he could do was urge his body to stop fighting its fate, to accept that it was over. This life was over. 

Maybe his next life would be kinder. 

Maybe he’d reincarnate as a chocobo. Because surely a bird’s life held more value than his. 

But then….

A scent. A faint aura trickled into the air, easing the rancid smell of the garbage ever so slightly. Prompto jumped as he took in the unexpected scent. Although just a trace of it hung in the air, the omega could determine three distinguishing characteristics of its makeup that stunned him to the core. 

Alpha. Mate. Mine. 

This scent screamed  _ his.  _ This person was meant for Prompto. This person was a missing piece to his shattered soul. This alpha was someone he needed in his life. He needed to know this alpha before he died, he needed this person to fix his soul in preparation for his journey to the afterlife. He wanted to be buried surrounded by this beautiful aura, he wanted to hold the hand of this alpha while he fell asleep for the last time. And so despite a lifetime of training not to beg, to never plead, to never ask for things that benefited him, Prompto broke the rules one more time. He was dying, so he might as well beg for an ounce of relief. It wasn’t as if anyone could do much more damage at this point. 

Prompto allowed his inner omega to call out to this alpha. 

Squeezing his eyes in focus, the omega sent a plea to the alpha to come visit him. To come help him through this scary process. To please take pity on him and hold him as he died. All he wanted was a hug. Just one hug. Just a small gesture of kindness to make Prompto feel as if his life wasn’t a complete waste. That someone out there felt he deserved some comfort while he passed, thus validating him as a human being. 

The omega didn’t expect a response to his call. It was a last-ditch attempt to selfishly obtain some affection, nothing more, nothing less. So when he felt the alpha react to his plea, his thoughts started swirling in his head. He suddenly felt dizzy and a tad nauseous from the reaction, his body not used to receiving such a response from an alpha. Because this alpha wasn’t reacting negatively. He was dumbstruck, uncertain and full of disbelief. Then his mood transformed into that of concern and panic before finally settling into a fierce determination. 

And then the dumpster erupted in warmth. 

Prompto accidentally banged his head against the side of the bin wall when he startled. The change in the environment was so sudden, so unexpected, and like nothing the omega had felt before in his life. And while his temple throbbed due to the minor gash he’d given it, Prompto dismissed the pain without a second thought. Instead he focused on the way this scent made him feel. Soothed. Cared for. Even kind of...loved? 

No, Prompto wouldn’t allow his thoughts to stray _ that  _ far. He settled for soothed. He felt comforted. Like someone knew he was out here and understood his pain. And if this was all Prompto received tonight, so be it. This was more than he ever could’ve imagined getting, and he wouldn’t dare ask for more. The omega settled back down, his inner omega sending out signals that he had no control over. He was calling out the alpha who was inching closer to him. Every second that passed, the air grew thicker with his scent. It took a while for Prompto’s muddled brain to realize that the alpha was moving closer because he was coming for  _ him _ . He was following Prompto’s scent.

He wanted to be with Prompto as he passed. 

Maybe the Astrals  _ were _ listening, then? Maybe they’d agreed to show pity and grant him a kind gesture simply for the hell of it? Prompto wouldn’t question their motives. He would grovel for the little scrap of kindness they sought fit to give him. 

He waited. 

About thirty minutes passed, the scent now hanging heavy in the air and making Prompto cuddle into himself. He was sleepy. The scent was strong and full of concern, full of  _ calm. _ This person wanted Prompto to relax, to feel safe. And he was doing a damn good job in his efforts to aid the stricken omega. Prompto felt more secure in this past half-hour than he’d felt in the entire twelve years of his captivity. To make the moment even better, the omega allowed himself to daydream about this mysterious alpha and pretend they were mates separated by evil forces but finally reuniting with one another. If given the chance, Prompto would be the perfect omega for this lovely alpha. He’d do anything he asked, in fact, he’d do things he  _ didn’t  _ ask for. He would give his everything to this alpha, so long as he kept releasing this scent. So long as he kept Prompto surrounded and warm. 

And then another scent joined the alpha’s and Prompto’s mind was sent reeling.  _ Two _ alphas? Two alphas were looking for him? Two alphas wanted to see him at rest? Two alphas wanted to  _ help _ him? 

Prompto would’ve spent more time dwelling on this unbelievable turn of events if not for the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow outside the dumpster. In an instant, Prompto felt suffocated by the scent of the first alpha. There could be no one else outside his coffin. The person with the boots was the alpha he’d called out to in desperation. He’d come for him. He was here. 

Prompto could do nothing but brace himself as he huddled in his little corner. He knew he should probably avert his eyes in respect for this alpha. He knew he should try and cover his nearly naked body so as not to look like a cheap whore in front of someone so wonderful. He wanted to be worthy of this alpha. He wanted this alpha to look at him and see a human deserving of his time and care. He didn’t want to look like the trash surrounding him. In a hurry, the omega brought his shaking hands to his face and tried to wipe away the dried blood under his nose and dirt smudges from being dumped on the ground. Deep down he knew it was pointless. He already looked like a skeleton, removing a little blood and dirt wouldn’t do much to save his image. But he tried nonetheless. This alpha...no,  _ these  _ alphas deserved his efforts. 

Despite his mental preparation, Prompto flinched when the lid of the dumpster was effortlessly lifted. Immediately, he could feel snow starting to coat his body causing him to shiver and realize just how frigid the outside of his dungeon was. The light snow from earlier had transformed into a fierce pre-blizzard, and Prompto knew with this change in weather he wouldn’t survive for much longer out here. But then a deep voice rang in the air, and in that moment Prompto realized that yes, he _ wouldn’t _ survive out here. But it wasn’t because he was dying. It was because this man had every intention of rescuing him from this hell hole. 

Prompto wasn’t dying tonight. This alpha would make certain of it. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

The omega couldn’t help but freeze when the man’s gentle tone caressed his ears. His words were laced with horror and disbelief, but at their core they were kind and concerned. It took Prompto several seconds to realize that these beautiful, soft words were directed at _ him.  _ This person had just called him the most tender, loving name Prompto had ever heard in his life. Never could he imagine such a sweet word being used towards someone so damaged and used as him. Surely he had to be hallucinating. Perhaps the cold had finally overtaken his mind. Maybe this man wasn’t a real man at all, but an angel the Astrals had sent to lead him into the heavens. 

Prompto decided that he might as well check and see. Turning his eyes upwards, the blond centered his gaze on the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life. And in a split second, half of Prompto’s soul split away from his body and latched onto the alpha he now knew as _ his.  _

In an instant, the omega’s world dissolved into nothing before rapidly coming back to life as something new and terrifying. His life was no longer meaningless, his world now revolved around this alpha with eyes as golden as the tips of angel’s wings. He belonged to this man. And while it was a foolish and frankly unbelievable thought, Prompto felt this man belonged to him too. And it was this brazen possessiveness that sent terror racing through the blond’s fragile body. Because Prompto had been beaten for claiming things as his own in the past. Little abandoned trinkets he found in the dust, soft pieces of fabric, his own _ hair. _ He’d once tried to lay claim to these things, and he received harsh punishment as a result. So to lay claim to an  _ alpha, _ a human being whose worth was a hundred times more valuable than his own, was ludicrous. But despite trying his hardest, Prompto couldn’t shake the feeling of ownership he felt over this man. And thus the terror in his body rose to levels previously unknown to him. 

But for once in his life, Prompto’s desire was stronger than his fear. This man with the honey eyes, beautiful masculine face and long, dark hair, was staring at him with the utmost kindness and concern. His eyes even held pain, as if he were hurt that Prompto was dying in this decrepit dumpster all alone. After he’d spoke he stood there silently, just looking, just pondering why an omega was tied and buried in trash. And while Prompto knew better than to ask for anything more, his inner omega was determined to seek out what his mind was too afraid to request. A little wail of need escaped his lips unbidden. It was a pitiful cry for help, for sympathy and perhaps a little respect. Prompto wasn’t expecting the man to hear the tiny sound, but he did. The massive alpha broke his intense gaze and spoke again. 

“Hey omega, it’s okay, I’m here to help you.” The alpha said, the gravelly tone of his voice causing Prompto’s body to warm ever so slightly. Prompto had only heard two sentences from his lips, but already he was in love with that voice. He wanted this man to speak more, to say pretty things to him. But he wouldn’t dare ask for favors he couldn’t repay. 

“I’m your mate, sweetheart. I’m gonna take care of you.” The alpha continued when Prompto remained tense and silent. The blond’s eyes widened at the word “mate”, confused and immediately skeptical of what this man was insisting. Surely, he didn’t mean what he was saying? Prompto wasn’t anyone’s mate. He was a whore. What was this man thinking? Why in the world would he call Prompto of all people something so sacred? It was foolish. 

However…

Prompto would give anything for his words to be true. He was already filing this soft declaration away for later. These words, although meaningless, would provide him hours upon hours of comfort later on. He already had plans to disassociate again later, and these words would no doubt play on a loop in his mind as he did so. 

Prompto watched quietly as the man lowered his arms into the bin. The blond tensed, wary about what was to occur. However, it was important to note that his feelings in this moment were quite abnormal. Prompto wasn’t tensing out of fear, he was tensing because he knew something was about to happen that he had no familiarity with. He didn’t understand why he felt so strongly about this man’s intentions, but he just  _ knew  _ that this alpha meant him no harm. All of his life experiences told him that this man was probably just manipulating him in order to gain sex without a fight. Prompto had experienced clients who faked kindness in order to get what they wanted. Thus, his body instinctively prepared for such a circumstance. But on the other hand, his inner omega was pleading for this man. His omega had decided that in this rare instance, an alpha meant no harm. And for the first time in years, Prompto allowed his omega to take control of his body and seek what it wanted. 

“Can I pick you up? You’re freezing and I need to get you warm.” The alpha continued, keeping his hands far enough away from Prompto as if to indicate he wouldn’t touch him without consent. 

Prompto didn’t think twice before shuffling forward. He was exhausted. Worn.  _ Desperate.  _ He’d been prepared to die tonight. He’d accepted his fate and was ready to let go. So for his circumstances to change so suddenly, the omega was nearing his mental capacity for extreme emotions. He was tired, starving, dehydrated, lost and confused, cold and so touch starved he’d been hugging his own numb hands to simulate a caress against his chest. He had nothing left to lose and everything to gain. So he moved, inching towards the man who offered him a surprised smile in return. But then his smile turned to disgust, and Prompto would’ve scampered away if not for him speaking again. 

“Who did this to you?” The alpha growled, reaching for the chain that was attached to the omega’s collar. The omega watched as the man briefly examined it before narrowing in on an area far from the blond’s neck. 

“Hold still, baby.” The alpha murmured, his affectionate pet name making Prompto’s lips quirk in pleasure. That little, adoring word made his cold ears warm up and tingles race down his spine. He wanted to be called ‘baby’ again. It made him feel special, cared for. It was too good for the likes of Prompto, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He would take every scrap of kindness he was given by this strange, benevolent man, because who knows when (or if) he’d ever receive such compassion again. 

The omega watched in silent awe as the muscular man easily broke the chain, freeing him from the dumpster that he’d thought to be his burial ground. As silly as it might sound, it felt as if his soul was being freed from the chain of trafficking at the same time. 

“Omega, can I touch you? I want to wrap you up in this coat.” The alpha asked as he shrugged his thick black coat off his broad shoulders. Prompto idly noted how expensive and important the garment looked. This man must be someone important to wear such nice clothes. Yet again the omega questioned why he was wasting his time on a homeless, abused omega in the middle of a blizzard. But the omega wouldn’t dare question the work of the Gods. Blessings were to be accepted without questioning why they were sent. 

Prompto trembled as the man moved forward, gently draping the thick coat over his shoulders. The omega chirped in pleasure when the lingering body heat of the alpha engulfed him, soothing his frigid skin and making him feel as if he were sitting in front of his master’s fireplace. The coat smelled strongly of _ alpha _ , a scent that made Prompto want to curl against this man and nuzzle his nose into his skin. The alpha’s personal scent smelled faintly of sage and forest wood. It was a very masculine, confident aura, something truly befitting of the man who exuded it. Prompto wanted to know more about him, to touch him and love him and lie beside him day in and day out. He’d never wanted something so strongly in his life. 

“Can I lift you out?” The alpha asked once Prompto grew used to the coat’s presence. Prompto cracked his lips to respond, never one to refuse an alpha’s question. However, his mouth was so dehydrated he could barely move his tongue. So instead of verbally responding, he shakily nodded his head yes. 

He was leaving. He wasn’t dying here. Tonight wasn’t the end. 

Prompto couldn't believe how drastically his night had changed. 

So focused on his thoughts of freedom, the omega was startled when the man wrapped his arms around his body and lifted. One strong hand accidentally brushed against a large, recently inflicted laceration on his lower back, and Prompto cried out at the sudden pain. Usually he was able to handle and quietly endure his wounds, but he hadn’t been mentally prepared for the burning feeling that suddenly raced down his back. 

But the alpha’s response made the harsh pain disappear in an instant. Prompto shook his head slightly to make sure he was hearing him correctly. The alpha was saying sorry. He was  _ apologizing _ for hurting Prompto. He felt bad that Prompto was in pain. Shiva, he must be dreaming. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know it hurts, sweetheart.” The alpha crooned, tenderly arranging the blond in his arms. He was careful to keep his hands free of the area he’d previously touched, adjusting the omega so that his wound wouldn’t be brushed and irritated . Prompto simply sat wide eyed as he moved, so shocked at how good he suddenly felt. The air had changed along with the alpha’s scent. The man was doing something with his pheromones to influence him, to calm him and make him feel soft and floaty. Prompto soon felt hazy and sleepy, the heightened scent of the alpha coaxing him to relax and accept the care he was so lovingly being given. 

As Prompto settled against the firm wall of muscle, marveling at the way the man encouraged his snuggling with quiet whispers of “ _ that’s it, sweetie” and “just rest, little one,''  _ the alpha dug around in his pocket for something. He eventually pulled his hand away with a phone grasped in his palm. Tapping the phone awake, Prompto watched curiously as he brought the device to his ear and waited. After a few seconds, someone picked up on the other line and Prompto could hear a frantic sounding muffled voice in the quiet late autumn air. 

“Iggy I’ve got him.” The alpha interrupted the person on the other line. His voice was incredulous, as if he didn’t quite yet believe what he was saying. He also sounded so _ happy.  _ Of course, this happiness was mixed with grief and pain. Prompto had noticed the way the alpha looked at him with such despair. He seemed hurt by Prompto’s state, upset that he was in a dumpster and dying. Prompto couldn’t quite understand why a stranger would be so upset about his circumstances but based on Prompto’s own strong feelings for the alpha, they probably couldn’t be considered strangers in the first place. Prompto knew this alpha. He’d never met him before, but he  _ knew _ him. And he had a sneaking suspicion that this alpha felt the same way about him. 

“We’re in the back, by the dumpster. Please hurry.” Prompto heard the alpha say after a few impatient seconds. He quickly hung up then, his attention turning back towards the quiet blond in his arms. Prompto’s heart fluttered tiredly when the man started up a rocking motion, the gentle swaying soothing Prompto and providing comfort as he tried to make sense of his altered reality. He was being rescued. Someone had deemed him worth saving, and Prompto was struggling to come up with a justification for this man’s decision to help him. The blond searched those golden eyes, trying to stare into the alpha’s soul and uncover his ulterior motives.

All he found was affection and concern. 

Prompto shivered. Not because of the cold, but because he felt overwhelmed. This turn of events was simply too much for him to handle. 

“That was my mate. He’ll be here soon.” The alpha explained, startling Prompto with news that another person would soon be seeing him in this state. The omega’s anxiety skyrocketed on instinct. He was so traumatized from his earlier group assault that he immediately thought the worst. Was this alpha inviting his mate over to rape him? Were they going to use him in the snow and put him back in the dumpster? Prompto wanted to beg this man, to try and convince him that Prompto couldn’t take anymore tonight. That his body hurt everywhere and that he just needed a few hours to recuperate. Prompto would be okay in the morning, he’d serve this man if that’s what he wanted. The alpha had been so kind to Prompto, so careful with him. He wouldn’t protest being this man’s slave if that’s what he intended. But he didn’t want anyone else to use him. The gang attack he’d endured earlier today hung heavy on his mind, and he simply couldn’t endure that again. 

His mouth too dry to be of any use, the omega scrambled in the alpha’s arms. He clung to him, trying desperately to communicate his feelings. A hoarse, choked sound escaped his lips in the process, and it was this sound that spurred the big alpha into action. 

“Hey, hey…It’s okay, he won’t hurt you.” The man crooned, lips tracing against Prompto’s neck as he pulled him into the tightest embrace he’d ever received. The gentle rocking motions increased, making Prompto’s anxiety pull back from the brink of a panic attack.

“I promise. No one will hurt you, baby.” The alpha continued, saying that beautiful pet name again. However, this time the name came with a promise. It was an oath Prompto desperately wanted to believe with all his heart. 

No one will hurt you. 

Prompto knew better than to trust an alpha. In his experience, they never had good intentions. They shamelessly used and abused omegas, throwing them away when they grew tired of their bodies. And seeing as they saw no use in an omega’s brain, an omega was effectively worthless when their body grew scarred and loose. Prompto had seen omegas abandoned and left for dead like he’d been this evening. He’d seen alphas manipulate omegas, make them think they were loved in a sick game they enjoyed playing. It was a game Prompto had quickly learned not to play into. Alpha’s loved building an omega up just so that they could laugh when they brought them back down. Thus, Prompto knew better than to trust the words of this big alpha who held him like he was a priceless jewel. 

But he when he looked into those golden eyes, he found himself doing exactly what he shouldn’t. Trusting. He couldn’t help it. This man captured his heart the very moment Prompto laid eyes on him. And well, Prompto had always struggled denying his heart its desires. It was a part of his wretched omegan nature that he couldn’t quite control, even after years of brutal punishment. 

“Gladio!” 

In the distance, Prompto heard someone approaching, a name falling from his frantic lips as he approached the pair. Prompto finally broke his gaze with the honeyed orbs that hypnotized him in favor of hiding from the newcomer he didn’t know nor trust. With a sigh, he curled his face into the chest of his rescuer. His alpha.

Gladio was a beautiful name, Prompto thought.


	2. Excerpt 2 - Based between Chapter 32 and 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This excerpt is set between chapters 32 and 45. To clarify, this scene takes places after Prompto's first intimate experience with Noctis, but before their wedding day.
> 
> This scene was written for my buddy, Icarus_Falls.

It wasn’t often Noctis could sleep in. Even on the weekends, the busy royal was usually required to be up and dressed by 8:30am. It was simply one of the many trials of being a King, and Noctis begrudgingly accepted the burden he was born with after a good thirty minutes of fussing each morning. Ignis, his long-suffering involuntary therapist, had grown used to the royal’s bitching and moaning. Noctis would whine and pitifully request additional minutes of sleep, Ignis would always stand firm with a swift ‘ _ We can’t do that today, Your Majesty’.  _ Noctis would accept it after kicking his legs a few times in a petulant show of disgruntlement (a behavior that always made Ignis down the remainder of his ebony in haste). He’d then drag himself out of bed, stomping towards the shower while wincing as he ran his hands through his messy locks. Ignis would follow, towel draped over one arm. Yes, Noctis was the type of bitch that required assistance with his morning showers. Don’t shame him. 

What followed was equally repetitive. Noctis would be dragged, still grumbling, from the shower and Ignis would get him dried and dressed for the day. Gladio would usually wander into the bedroom during this process, slapping Noctis’s bare ass as he headed to shower himself. This painful smack on the behind was just as much a part of Noctis’s morning routine as anything else. Never would he share this secret, but Gladio’s morning greeting was like a shot of caffeine to him. It usually startled a few sluggish brain cells awake, something Noctis both appreciated and detested at the same time. 

But nothing quite woke the grumpy King up like the sunshine. And he didn’t mean the big glowing thing outside his window. Nope, it was the little ball of energy that would come racing into the room just as Noctis was adjusting the ties on his raiment. Prompto was an early riser, his affinity for mornings fitting effortlessly into his nickname of “sunshine”. The blond typically rose with Gladio and the pair of them would go on morning runs together. Prompto usually stayed out longer than the Shield, taking photos, chatting with some of the staff he was familiar with, or just wandering around the Citadel for no other reason but to explore. He always wandered home in time for the foursome’s shared breakfast though, still wearing his workout clothes that made Noctis’s remaining brain cells jolt awake out of rabid lust. Prompto had a thing for wearing compression leggings and ridiculously skin-tight tees during his morning runs, and no one was more appreciative of the look than the filthy King of Lucis himself. The royal usually left the apartment after sneaking a few gropes along that ass, Ignis swatting him away when he lingered around for too long. 

Of course, Noctis would always sneak some fun later on in the day when the advisor wasn’t looking. For all his attention to detail, Ignis had yet to discover the little hideaway Noctis had established for his and Prompto’s impromptu romps. And just where was this little place? Well, Ignis’s own office closet, of course. The one and only place the advisor wouldn’t look for his bummy, work phobic spouse. Ignis spent so much time working in Noctis’s office that he often neglected his own. And well, Noctis wasn’t above breaking and entering. If it meant a chance to suck Prompto’s dick while the omega squealed and whimpered so beautifully, Noctis would break into the Niflheim Emperor’s personal bathroom to do the deed if needed. Prompto’s ass was worth potentially being slaughtered. 

So with all that said, on this rare morning that Noctis had nowhere to go, no place to be, the King had every intention of reacquainting himself with said beautiful ass. 

The King woke to a room full of sunshine. It was clearly late morning, the sounds of the city below him faint but clearly active. Giving himself a moment to enjoy a delicious stretch, the royal rolled over onto his side to see if his husbands and omega decided to sleep-in with him. Ignis was missing in action, of course. The advisor was probably off running errands at the local farmer’s market, his typical Saturday morning activity. Gladio was missing as well, and Noctis frowned at this. Sometimes the Shield also indulged in sleep-ins, but apparently not today. He was most likely busting his ass at the gym, tirelessly working to maintain the impressive body he’d sported since high school. With a turn to his right, Noctis held out hope that Prompto might’ve stuck around for a cuddle or two.

And luck was on his side today. 

The blond in question was lounging on his stomach, fingers tapping rapidly against his phone. The night before, Prompto had discovered yet another game app which he enthusiastically declared “the best game ever.” Having known Prompto for quite a while now, the King knew that anything that caught Prompto’s attention in a good way was automatically labeled “the best”. The blond had a tendency to use extremely positive adjectives to describe things he found interesting or amusing. Thus, it was sometimes difficult to narrow down what Prompto really considered “the best”. Noctis had trained himself to look for certain clues. When Prompto stuttered in excitement, he liked something. When he did little happy dances, twirling around the living room in a pair of his favorite fluffy socks, he loved something. When he wiggled his little ass like a puppy anticipating a treat, he _ really  _ loved something. So seeing as his butt was currently jiggling away, Noctis knew that this game was indeed, the best game ever. 

If Noctis could recall, it was called  _ “A Knight and his King”  _ or some shit. 

And if that didn’t sound gay as hell, Noctis didn’t know what-

“Noct! You’re finally awake! Come play with me.” Prompto interrupted the King’s lazy train of thoughts with an eager invitation. The blond rose from his stomach, crawling on all fours over to the bedside table to collect Noctis’s charging phone. The King didn’t feel a lick of guilt for watching his omega’s behind sway as he moved. 

The King really hoped that Prompto’s use of the word “play” meant what he needed it to mean. Because goddamn,  _ that ass. _

The blond was currently wearing one of Gladio’s t-shirts which swamped his slender frame, but in his current position, the shirt rode up his back revealing his boxer brief clad behind in all its luscious glory. Noctis’s purposefully pretended like he didn’t see the hideous moogle print of the briefs involving two of the weird creatures sucking face. Why Prompto felt the need to indulge in moogle softporn was beyond his understanding. But hey, Noctis watched porn about alpha’s wearing lingerie while being called ‘omega’ by actual omegas, so who was he to shame the blond for liking weird shit? 

“I need you to sign up and create a character. I want the reward weapon you get when a friend uses your personal code. Ooh, and I want us to play multiplayer. I’m really low on gil so I need help farming and I don’t want to pay money to speed up the process because I wanna buy some paint brushes because Umbra ate one and fuck, should I have taken him to the vet? I think he pooped it out yesterday. Or that could’ve just been a long-ass turd, I don’t know…” 

Despite feeling a little frustrated that Prompto was talking about a game and not a pleasure session, Noctis couldn’t help but smile affectionately at his omega’s rambling. When Prompto was excited about something, he tended to speak nonstop and pepper his words with information that was irrelevant to the conversation. In theory, this type of behavior should annoy Noctis who preferred when people got straight to the point. But as with everything in his life, Prompto was an exception to the rule. The blond’s word explosion sounded like musical notes, his sweet voice warming Noctis’s soul like heated honey. And yes, Noctis  _ did  _ sometimes zone out when the blond was like this. He was listening to him, but not absorbing every word he was saying. Once the blond calmed down from his overexcitement, he’d often apologize for his rambling words and silly comments, often forgetting what he’d even said himself. 

But Noctis wasn’t gonna let him get to that point today. 

Prompto had inadvertently presented his ass like sweet omegas were prone to do, and Noctis wouldn’t rest until he tasted it. 

_ “Knight’s night with King” _ could wait. 

“Hey, Prom?” the King called as Prompto pulled the charging cord away from his phone. The blond looked over his shoulder, and _ fuck.  _ Noctis wasn’t ready for the view he made. Ass still in the air, innocent eyes looking back at him in question like he didn’t know what was on his lover’s mind. But Noctis was familiar with this game. Prompto liked playing all innocent and cute, teasing. He liked prancing around in the metaphorical coeurl’s den, quietly calling all the dirty felines hissing on the outskirts to the center. He was an expert in his craft, that was for certain. And Noctis was his biggest fanboy on Eos. 

“What?” Prompto prodded when Noctis just stopped speaking. The King was lying on his side, one arm propping up his head as he drank in the sight of his favorite blond. He seemed lost in thought, eyes noticeably centered on Prompto’s ass and not his eyes. 

“Noct, you’re being a weirdo.” Prompto huffed when the King made no move to answer his prompting. Another few seconds passed and Prompto rolled his eyes before sultry adjusting his hips ever so slightly. And then he gave his ass a little shake. And another. And another. 

“Fuck Prom, are you twerking?” The royal asked, finally sitting up to watch this random (fucking hot) show that the omega was teasing him with. 

“Oh? Is that what they call it these days?” Prompto hummed innocently, adding a hypnotizingly slow roll of his hips into the dance. And yeah, Noctis blurred his eyes a bit because it appeared that four lip-locked moogles were humping each other due to the creasing of the fabric. He could do without the briefs. 

“Hey Prom, let me free your ass....” The King purred in interest, resisting the urge to fetch his wallet and throw money on top of this pretty omega. Because damn, the royal felt he was stiffing Prompto by watching without paying. But if Ignis were to return home and find their omega covered in money like a cheap dancer in a strip club, Noctis would be scooping up chocobo shit in the stables for weeks to come. Prompto was priceless and was to be treated like the gift he was. Ignis would have a heart attack if he was subjected to anything less than the full royal treatment. 

And well, it wasn’t like this was a terrible thing. Because Noctis  _ was  _ the King so he could decide what exactly this “full royal treatment” consisted of. And let’s be clear, it involved his tongue and Prompto’s luscious behind. 

“It’s already free babe, can’t you see?” Prompto giggled, easily executing a sinful move with a slow twist of his hips. 

And....Noctis was tired of this game. He loved being teased, but his poor dick could only handle so much. The organ was an eager little fucker that got sad when he wasn’t paid attention to, and Noctis cared deeply for the little  _ (proportionate _ ) guy. 

Prompto erupted in giggles when he was tackled to the bed. His lover held him pinned on his stomach, the royal’s hands coming up to muse his hair and stroke along his cheek. The blond let him do as he wanted, happy to indulge in this rare morning he had with the busy monarch. But then he felt his lover’s covered length pressing against his bare thigh, insistently rubbing and using his limb for pleasure, and Prompto felt the need to protest for no other reason but to play hard to get. 

“Nooooct. You’re humping my leg like a dog.” Prompto whined like he wasn’t enjoying every second of it. 

Noctis didn’t flinch at the comment, hips still moving on their own accord like they were possessed. He’d been compared to worst things during his monarchy. He could deal with being likened to a horny dog reduced to humping the object of his affection. For it was only the fear of getting his ass kicked into space by a furious advisor that kept him from slipping his boxers off before their wedding night. Seeing as this was his only option, he humped harder. 

But as Noctis had learned from a very early age, uninterrupted pleasure for royals was a rare gift to enjoy. No matter how much a King might try, finding time for themselves was painstakingly difficult. And when they  _ did  _ manage to grasp an early evening or a weekend off, the peaceful silence was tainted by feelings of guilt. It was hard for a King to rest when he knew there were starving and homeless citizens in need of his attention. A Monarch had the burden of not only their own problems, but that of an entire country. So when Noctis managed to wrangle some guilt-free time away to himself, he wanted to indulge to the fullest. But rarely was he allowed to indulge for very long due to interruptions like a certain conniving little beast. 

  
  


Looking back, the King would cringe in embarrassment at his overly dramatic reaction to Carbuncle’s sudden appearance. But in that moment, he was truly startled and scared shitless. So focused and engaged in his hump-a-hottie session, the King was blissfully unaware that Carbuncle had entered the room in search of someone to worship him. When the beast realized the occupants in the room weren’t dropping everything in order to pet him, he felt insulted and thus resorted to _ demanding _ said attention.

Jumping up onto the bed, the little animal crept his way towards his pets. He quickly decided that he wouldn’t unleash his wrath on his favorite domesticated human, the hyper new blond. This pet was the most affectionate with him, as well as the most giving. If Carbuncle wanted something, the blond would get it for him without question. The black-haired pet was his second favorite. However, he was a lazy fucker so he didn’t always listen to his master’s orders. The other day Carbuncle had grown frustrated with his raven-coated pet when he refused to unlock the treat cabinet for him in favor of sleeping at the kitchen table. He eventually sought out his biggest pet, the darker-toned one with the deep voice, and was able to wrangle a few cookies out of him. As for the four-eyed stray that insisted on occupying his palace, Carbuncle would  _ never  _ lower himself to beg his assistance.

The stray was his arch nemesis, a heartless bitch of the lowest breeding. Carbuncle had been trying to get rid of him for heaven knows how long. But unfortunately, his other pets insisted on keeping the pesky stray for whatever reason. So Carbuncle grudgingly withheld his homicidal urges and refrained from slicing his throat in the middle of the night. Instead, he spent his days investigating new ways to enrage the stray that consistently challenged his status as a God. But with his favorite toy missing in action this morning out shopping, Carbuncle had to resort to his next favorite activity: being worshipped. 

But low and behold, his pets felt they could ignore their God in favor of humping like the dumbfuck dogs recently introduced to his home. And Carbuncle wouldn’t tolerate being ignored after everything he’d given these wild, untrainable animals. 

Crawling up behind the black pet, the animal leaned down and sank his teeth into one of the plump cheeks that rested below his back. 

Noctis howled at the sudden pain, wrenching himself away from Prompto and elbowing him in the face in the process. 

“What the fuck?!” The King yelped, scrambling away from the teeth as Prompto tried to escape his flailing limbs. Carbuncle darted off the bed with a satisfied smirk, a little hiss escaping his lips which would be considered cackling if he were human. 

“Dude, Carbuncle bit your ass!” Prompto proclaimed, catching sight of the little creature sitting on the floor. The beast was innocently licking one of his paws as he watched the fallout of his mischief. It wasn’t the first time Prompto marveled at how such an innocent looking creature could be such a menace. 

“Little shit.” Noctis growled, looking over his shoulder as he pulled his boxer briefs down. Prompto couldn’t help but giggle as the King checked his poor ass for a wound. With a quick glance, Prompto noticed that it was just a small nip. A tad red but nothing more. Still, Prompto wanted to soothe the little mark until it disappeared. 

“Want me to kiss it better, babe?” Prompto called as Noctis examined himself. The King turned his attention away from his butt in order to give Prompto a rather pitiful nod. The blond hummed a sympathetic sound as he inched over to press a kiss to the mark. And then added a few more kisses just for fun. Noctis refused to acknowledge them, but Prompto had found a small patch of freckles on his ass about a month prior. The omega always grew excited when he discovered freckles on his lover’s bodies, so he spent a few seconds showing some love to the little blemishes he adored. That is, until a little paw reached out to bat his lips away. 

“Carbuncle, stop.” Prompto giggled, pulling away to acknowledge the little animal who was apparently envious of the attention Noctis was receiving. With the omega’s eyes firmly planted on him, the beast purred and reached a paw out to pat at the blond’s hand. Having lived with the animal for many months now, Prompto knew he was asking for cuddles. 

“You want attention, don’t ya?” Prompto inquired, scooping the pet into his arms and giving him a hug. “You should’ve asked nicely, ‘Buncle. You didn’t have to bite Noct’s ass…” 

The beast fixed the blond with a look that said otherwise. 

Prompto sighed and decided against disciplining this morning. Because he really couldn’t blame his pet for wanting cuddles. Prompto wanted some cuddles too. Cuddles made the world go ‘round after all. 

“Prom, if you ignore his bad behavior, he’ll do it again.” Noctis grumbled, borrowing the mantra Gladio always huffed when Ignis disregarded his own bad behavior. Shuffling around the bed, the King gathered several blankets and pillows and started building a small nest as he waited for Prompto’s response. His plans to indulge in the blond’s pretty body had been successfully thwarted, but he could still make use of this lovely morning off in bed. Prompto was already moving to prop himself against their massive headboard, gathering a few pillows with one hand while he kept Carbuncle cuddled close in his other arm. 

“Yeah but…” Prompto started, chewing his lip as he patted the pillows. “Noct, he’s just so damn  _ cute. _ ”

“Yeah I know, but you’ve heard that old saying, right? Cuteness killed the cat or some shit.” The King huffed as he moved to rest beside Prompto. When he reached an arm out in invitation, Prompto immediately curled into his side and rested his chin on the royal’s shoulder. Noctis followed up his movement by wrapping his arm securely along the blond’s waist, fingers tracing a pattern into the skin of the omega’s lower back. 

“I think it’s ‘curry killed the cat’, and Carbuncles not a cat he’s a... fluff ball with a horn.” 

“So that means he’s part devil. That makes sense.” The King grabbed his phone Prompto had brought over earlier and swiped it to bring it to life. He was curious about this  _ “Nighttime Knights and Kings”  _ game that Prompto had been raving about, and what better time than now to learn how to play? 

“No!” Prompto huffed, making Noctis pause as he entered the Appstore of his phone. “He’s part unicorn. He’s too innocent to be a devil.”

Noctis barked a laugh, typing  _ “A Night with a King” _ into his search field.

Nothing appeared.

“Yeah sorry, I disagree. He’s from hell. You  _ do  _ know daemons masquerade as angels to lure people into Ifrit’s kitchen?” 

“Who said hell is a bad place, though? Ifrit’s kinda hot. He has a character in “King’s Knight”, I can show you.” Prompto shot back, eyes growing excited when he noticed Noctis repeatedly typing variations of “night”, “king” “popular game” and “gay couple game” into his search bar. 

“Oh, that’s what it’s called. Thought you were playing some sorta gay roleplaying game. Y’know, like that series you were playing last month, “My Hot Boyfriend Mitchell’ and ‘Mitchell meets Max - Who Will You Decide?’”

Prompto’s blush rivaled the color of the cherries Ignis was no doubt selecting in the farmer’s market at that very moment. He was hoping his lovers wouldn’t catch onto his more embarrassing phone games, but apparently Noctis had caught him indulging in the addicting alpha/omega roleplaying game that was all the rage last month. And yeah, it was cheesy as hell and entirely unrealistic, but Prompto enjoyed games that allowed him to build little families to dote on just by swiping and tapping buttons. So yes, Mitchell was his phone boyfriend and they were currently parents to fifteen virtual children. With a sixteenth on the way. Prompto was a busy boy. 

“C’mere, babe.” Noctis chuckled when he noticed the blond’s embarrassment. He pulled Prompto closer to his side, leaning down to kiss a heated forehead. “I think your game choices are adorable, and Mitchell looked hot when I looked him up on Moogle.”

“You think so? I love his dark hair. It’s kinda like yours.  _ Wait.  _ Oh my god. So there’s this character in King’s Knight that looks  _ just _ like you. I mean they have green skin but ignore that. They’re also a girl with big ass boobs, but you can ignore that too. They have your hair and your little waist and they love wearing black. They even wear heels like you do! Y’know I bet they modeled her after you and _ shit _ , they should’ve paid you ‘cause they’re technically stealing your image, but I can’t fault them for being cheap because who the hell can afford to buy rights to the  _ King’s _ image? _ I  _ sure as hell can’t. I’m as broke your dad’s knee was…”

Noctis nodded along, eyebrows quirking every so often when Prompto said something _ really  _ random. Like since when did he wear heals? Yeah his boots were a little tall but he was totally not insecure or anything about his height. Okay, maybe he was  _ smidge  _ jealous of his guards that towered over him…but randomness aside, Noctis happily listened and hummed his agreement with Prompto’s rapidly shared opinions. While he chatted nonstop about the dozens of characters featured in his new favorite game, Prompto got the King’s phone up and running for a morning of battling virtual daemons and a fictional evil army loosely based on the real-life Empire of Niflheim. Meanwhile, Carbuncle purred between the two, content to have their interlaced hands resting upon his back as the threesome huddled closely together. 

And for just how long would they stay in this position? Neither man nor beast knew for sure. Because when the atmosphere outside grew dark with impending rain, the cozy trio only burrowed deeper into their makeshift nest. An afternoon in bed was silently agreed upon. King’s Knight, laughter and cuddles. What a rare and wholesome treat. 


End file.
